The Coat
by Snailhair101
Summary: Sad and lonely, Dean spends some time with Castiel's coat. (Destiel feels, bittersweet fluff, one shot.)


Dean slammed the motel door on the way out. He stomped toward the Impala, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. He heard the door open behind him again.

"Dean," Sam called, "would you get back in here? We need to find -"

"I need time to think," Dean shouted gruffly over his shoulder.

He didn't stop to argue. Sam stood in the motel doorway and watched as Dean climbed into the car and started her up. Yeah, they needed to figure out what they were gonna do about Dick, but he hoped Sam understood that he still needed his space. He glanced up at his little brother once before backing out of the parking lot.

Dean drove. It didn't matter what direction he went in. It didn't matter what time it was. The purr of the engine and the feel of the tight steering wheel beneath his fingers were enough company. For while, anyway...at least, until his mind began to wander.

As the headlights lit up the blur of white stripes on the pavement, his head started to feel heavy with thoughts. Dammit, why couldn't he have had more time to get to know his mother? Why did she have to die so young? And leave Sammy to deal with all of this Hell? And why did it seem like everything boiled down to poor Sammy having to take the brunt of it all? He might not have known her well enough, but Dean was damn sure his mother would have never allowed any of this to happen to her children...If she had lived.

Dean swallowed harshly, as thoughts of his mother's death faded into his last memory of Cas; Of him wading out into the water, prepared to die. Dean could only stand and watch as Cas got farther away, slowly sinking below the water...

Dean sighed heavily as he pulled off the highway and slowed to a stop. He found himself starring at the dials on the radio. They were slowly blurring as moisture built up in his eyes. It was scary how fast just the thought of Cas made him tear up. He angrily wiped his eyes. Cas was so stupid. How could an angel not choose the right path? Make the right decisions?

With the car now off, Dean realized he didn't want to drive anymore. He was just too damn tired to think straight, let alone drive. As the thought of sleeping in the car came to mind, he noticed it was getting cold inside. And he was not going to waste gas just for heat. It was then that he remembered what was in the trunk.

Taking a deep breath, Dean dragged himself out of the car. He made his way to the back, pausing to stare at the trunk for a moment before popping it open. There, crinkled and folded in the corner, lay Cas's coat. He reached down and picked it up slowly, turning it over in his hands. The fabric was still dirty and wrinkled, but somehow still so...perfect. It was just the way it ought to be.

Dean slammed the trunk shut and made his way to the front seat again, gripping the coat tight. He slid in to sit and shut the door. Trying not to think too much about it, he opened the coat and draped it over himself, making sure to cover his whole front. The collar brushed over his nose, making the scent of Cas almost unavoidable. Dean closed his eyes as he gulped.

"Dammit," he griped under his breath.

It wasn't good enough. This _coat_ wasn't good enough. It wasn't _Cas_. Cas wasn't there, sitting beside him in the impala. He wasn't even alive anymore. But this damn coat was tricking his senses into believing that he _was_ there. The soft, airy smell, the gritty, rough feel of the coat, the familiar 'tax accountant' sight...

Dean couldn't believe he had to wipe another tear away from his cheek. Why was he so damn sad over loosing him? No one else's death ever made him feel this way...But Cas was an angel, right? And did angels ever really die?

With a new found hope, Dean tilted his head back to glare at the ceiling of the impala.

"Cas," he breathed, "if you're alive...if you can hear me...I just want you to know...you need to come back and wash this damn coat. And make it snappy, you son-of-a-bitch."

Pleased with his prayer, Dean finally closed his eyes and nestled deeper into the fabric, hoping Cas heard him loud and clear. The angel's familiar scent gently lulled him to sleep.


End file.
